


Invitation

by sunaga



Category: Elementary (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Courtship, Gen, Psychic Bond, Psychic Wolves, community: multifandom au drabble meme, play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-12
Updated: 2013-01-12
Packaged: 2017-11-25 04:41:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/635225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunaga/pseuds/sunaga
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They are both wolves, they are both gifted, there is one likely outcome.  Joan tries not to think of it, Sherlock tries to hasten it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Invitation

**Author's Note:**

  * For [inlovewithnight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/inlovewithnight/gifts).



> Originally [posted](http://wehappyfew.dreamwidth.org/37888.html?thread=100608#cmt100608) for the Multifandom AU Drabble Meme. 
> 
> With thanks to inlovewithnight for allowing such a loose interpretation of their prompt. If there's such a thing as pre-soulbonding, this would be it.

If she really thinks back, it starts when they meet.  He's close in her space, mouthing words of love at her. 

 

His scent coats the walls.  This near, it's like wading through it.  If they were wolves, her hackles would raise, she'd growl, and they'd fight this out.  But they are human, and instead she is flustered.  Regardless, she still wants to grab the column of his spine between her teeth until he presents his body to her: strong neck, soft belly, bare wrists above his head waiting for her hand to capture him.

 

The urge is strong, and she drops her purse.

 

It's hard to forget that kind of pull.

 

 

 

She's not surprised that when they shift the magnetism is still there.  She is anxious about spending the night with him though; having a new wolf in his den could be dangerous.  She offered to leave him the house, but he'd reminded her with wide eyes about how their kind like to indulge in their vices on full moons.  And damn him, she stays.

 

She tries to compromise.  Leaving him picking a new set of locks, she goes into her room, set on spending the night there.  After she changes though, she realizes that while she might be able to stay there, Sherlock is sure to come in.  That raises her ruff, so she nudges the door open.  Outside her room, Sherlock's scent is even stronger, a taste in the back of her mouth, a burn at the top of her nose.

 

Tripping down the stairs (she cringes at how loud her claws are against the wood), she finds him with all six TVs running, the volume turned lower than usual for wolf ears.  His back's to her, but he stills as he smells her approach.  She tenses, ready to spring and snap and bite and _push_ until Sherlock accepts a new wolf in his territory, but instead -

 

Instead, his tail gives a feeble flop and he rolls belly up.

 

Joan stands there dumbly.  Sherlock rolls around on his back making the most pitiful whining she's ever heard, and well -  Clearly Sherlock's not upset with having another wolf in his den.

 

Approaching slowly, in case he changes his mind, she pads over.  His tail starts wagging in invitation.  She snuffles at his belly, and he squirms; she puts an end to that by gently gripping his neck between her jaws.  He stills beautifully, and she should leave it at that, but she can't help but give him a small shake.

 

Ashamed, she lets go, but then he rolls up onto his feet, tongue lolling.  He gives a chipper bark, nips her jaw and runs, stopping beneath the kitchen table to look back at her.  His offer is clear:

 

 _Come play_.

 

Joan gives chase.

 

Despite his size, he's good at hiding in small places that would leave other wolves trapped.  She's exhausted by the time she flushes him out of every bolt hole he has in the house.  Panting, she lies on her side.  Sherlock comes trotting in and collapses on top of her.  She gives a token growl, and he continues to find the best way to sleep on top of her.

 

Early in the morning, when she leaves to change back, he's curled against her side.  She wants to give him a lick to apologize for leaving him alone, but thinks better of it.

 

For the rest of the lunar week, she plays with him.  When they're not doing that, he follows her closely, letting her lead him around his own den.

 

It's not really surprising.  People often become attached to their companions, and with both of them being wolves, it's unsurprising his attachment to her is even greater.  She's the closest thing to pack he's probably had in a long time. 

 

With the wolf on the outside of their skin, they're indulgent creatures.  She tries not to think too hard about that as he continues to stay close to her.  He might not be a wolf, constantly butting his head against her - lean body in fur rubbing against hers - but he is a man who opens doors, takes her coat, clears his knick knacks so she has a place to sit.

 

 

 

When Joan moves onto her next assignment, she realizes she should've remembered what else both she and Sherlock were.

 

Before she agreed to take Sherlock on, she'd looked into him.  If they were a mismatched set of wolves, she'd only make things work.  Now, she realizes, that was never the problem.  Not at all.

 

Sherlock's talents don't limit themselves to picking handcuffs and deduction; he has multiple pack offers standing.  A wolf with Sherlock's range of communication is well-valued, and Joan wonders why he is alone to begin with.  He's received _and given_ messages from his old pack in London _while in New York_.  That's not normal, not at all; it's quite extraordinary. 

 

Joan's quite talented at receiving from far distances, but she's never been able to reply.  She's sure Sherlock would've used it to his advantage if he could; but it seems there are some rules even Sherlock would abide by.  Sending messages that way was a reserved intimacy, and the gift was rare.  As it was, he constantly bombarded her with texts.

 

Her new client isn't a wolf, so Joan keeps to her room during the quarter moon after giving her client explicit instructions not to bother her unless it was an emergency.  She wakes up the next morning to her client yelling there's a dead rabbit on their doorstep.

 

Having been without a pack because of her job, she thinks her wolf's not used to being alone again after Sherlock.  She works very hard at not remembering how thrilling it was to have a companion on the hunt (animal, human, it was all prey anyway).  (She steadfastly calls her time with Sherlock diverting and fascinating and does not say she was happy.)

 

She pulls on her robe and goes to see the poor dead creature.  It's a clean kill, not much blood, all things considered.  But _the smell_ ; she shouldn't be able to tell, but it's Sherlock curling up through the air and down into her bones again.

 

On the half moon there is a deer - she doesn't know how he found a _deer_ in New York.   On the three-quarters there's a coyote - a fellow predator, a demonstration of who the better hunter is.  The wolf in her is nearer to the surface with Sherlock's scent growing thicker with each kill.  She thinks of breakfasts in bed, of spaghetti in mugs, and Sherlock always offering his food to her first.  (They are both wolves, they are both gifted, there are only so many reasons, and only one that is likely.)

 

 _This has got to stop_ , she texts him.

 

_come running w. me joanie._

She shuts her phone.

 

 

 

On the night of the full moon, she hears him outside her door as only their kind can.

 

_Watson!_

And God help her, she goes to meet him.

**Author's Note:**

> If you were curious, it is their ability to communicate across distances (psychicness, if you will) that is the basis of their soul/psychic bond.
> 
> Also, I have a very hard time with dialogue in Elementary fandom. If anyone would like to help me out, give advice, link me to places, etc. I'd be much obliged. <3


End file.
